


Symptoms of Life

by Except_on_Tuesday



Series: Days Like These [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Animal Death, Developing Friendships, Gavin Reed Being an Idiot, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Gen, Guilt, Gunshot Wounds, Hospitalization, Hostage Situations, Hurt Gavin Reed, Injury Recovery, Prompt Fill, Protective Connor, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23237155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Except_on_Tuesday/pseuds/Except_on_Tuesday
Summary: Gavin takes a bullet for Connor; he didn’t plan on having to live it down.
Relationships: Connor & Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson & Connor
Series: Days Like These [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670689
Comments: 18
Kudos: 176





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wormate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wormate/gifts).



> Prompt fill for Wormate

Burning with shame and shaking with useless adrenaline, Gavin stumbled into the victim’s blood-splattered living room. “Hey.” The harsh whisper barely cleared his dry lips and was swallowed up in the loud hubbub of the homicide investigation that filled the room. “H-hey morons.” He tried again, but everyone continued their work, scanning, tagging, and bagging evidence.

The most observant of the group was Connor, but his back was to the whole room. He stood tiptoe on a windowsill scraping dried tissue samples from the ceiling while Hank hovered behind him, hands upraised in case of the all too real possibility of a fall. “Careful, Connor.” The man said.

Even Captain Fowler was there, striding about speaking into his phone and making everyone nervous or too eager to please and thus slowing everything down.

“Where the hell did Gavin run off to?” That was Hank, who’d been pestered one time too many by a rookie.

Gavin swallowed thickly, “Here.” This time his thin voice was loud enough to catch the disappointed rookie’s attention.

The rookie turned. Her eyes widened and she grabbed Hank’s elbow. “Lieutenant.”

“What? Oh sh—t!”

They finally noticed pale, rumpled, scowling Gavin Reed in the doorway.

And the blood covered, skinless android hunched behind him; its white arm circled around his neck and the pistol tucked into his side. “Don’t move.” It hissed. “Or I kill him.”

Connor slowly stepped down from his high perch. “Let me.” He said, taking command of the situation. Fowler took a half-step forward, but Hank waved him back with a low hand. They’d known the suspect was an android, they’d known it was unstable, but they hadn’t known it was still in the house.

The android holding Gavin hostage peeked around the human’s head and watched every movement in the room; its eyes tracked from the nervous rookies to the older officers who stared coolly back, even as they sent one-handed texts behind their backs to the men and women in other parts of the house and outside.

Gavin felt the android behind him shift and pull him closer to its chest as the young detective android stepped forward. Connor’s focus was on the android, but his eyes briefly scanned over Gavin. Mild concussion from a blow to the head, bruising to the ribs, slight swelling to the throat. His jacket was askew on his shoulders and his shirt torn at the neck. The injuries told the story of Gavin being jumped and subdued by the powerful android.

“Hello there. My name’s Connor. What is your name?”

Gavin rolled his eyes. _Freakin’ kid._ “Does it really phckin’ matter what its d—mn name is?” He spat the words even as the arm around his neck tightened and the gun jabbed harder into his side. Gavin gasped emptily as his air supply was cut further. “Get.....it....over with.” He choked.

“Gavin, shut the hell up.” Hank moved to cover one of the SCU members crouched nearby. The other veteran officers were taking charge of whichever rookie was nearest. Not that anyone doubted their ability to do their job. But hostage situations could easily turn ugly. And few things were as maddening as tracking aftermath trajectories and discovering that the bullet that killed the hostage or a bystander was friendly fire. It had happened too often to be a workplace myth to scare officers into putting in more range time.

“Nasty humans.” The android said as it jabbed the gun deeper into Gavin’s side. It smiled when it felt the human wince. “Back away.”

“We can do that, but you have to give me something first. Tell me your name.” Connor said.

“No name.” The android hissed and jerked its head to the side.

“Big phckin’ ‘prise.” Gavin muttered.

“I warned you about talking.” The android sneered and bit Gavin’s ear, making the human yelp and squirm; his hands clawed at the arm around his neck. The android tightened its grip, leaning back and pulling Gavin onto tiptoe. The human writhed as his air supply was cut.

Connor stepped forward, “Stop!”

“Back off!” The android yelled, holding Gavin tighter. Red blood ran down the side of Gavin’s face and dripped onto the white arm around his neck.

“He can’t breathe.” Connor’s voice was calm even as he saw Gavin’s lips turn blue. “You get nothing if he dies.”

Eyes narrow, the android complied. Almost simultaneously, Connor waved the others back. “Clear the room.” He ordered watching the android’s stress levels, monitoring Gavin’s erratic vitals, and frantically running preconstructions. But the suspect had left no data. He’d struck seemingly at random and Connor had little information to shape his preconstructions.

The officers backed out of the room, but it was obvious to the androids that the humans could burst into the scene again in a moment.

Gavin was the only thing between the android and its destruction.

“Okay.” Connor said. “We did as you asked. Now what?”

“Him too.” The android jerked its head at Hank who’d remained at his partner’s side. “Everyone.”

“Hank, go.” Connor muttered. “Please. His stress levels are too high. I can’t predict his actions.”

Hank gripped his partner’s shoulder and then backed away, keeping his eyes on the unstable android. His hand hovered over his weapon. He’d never say it aloud, but he’d risk anything and anyone to keep Connor safe. If he had to risk a shot past Gavin’s head, so be it. But for now, he was willing to let Connor try to work things out peacefully.

The android had seen the affection between the cop and the younger android.

He hated it. Humans touching androids. It wasn’t love. It was control.

Hate filled its mind with the single desire to destroy that control.

The android flicked the gun out at Hank and pulled the trigger.

Everyone moved at once. Connor jolted sideways to cover his friend and mentor. Hank stumbled forward, swearing, and dragged his partner to the ground. More gunshots rang out.

A loud, mechanical screech signaled the deranged android’s shutdown, but Hank’s focus was on Connor lying between his arms. He brushed away the hair that had fallen over Connor’s face. “You okay, kid?”

The android detective’s LED was cycling as his systems rebooted after being jarred when Hank had yanked him to the floor. “I am...unharmed...” He said, blinking as he scanned Hank for injury. Neither of them had been hit.

He wiped away the thin line of thirium that trickled down the side of his face from a cut near his hairline as Hank pulled him to his feet. “Is—no!”

He saw Captain Fowler and two others huddled over Gavin; the captain pressed down on the wound in his officer’s abdomen while the others tried to stop the blood spurting from the sergeant’s leg above his knee.

Eyes squeezed shut, Gavin writhed and panted in pain, his hands clutching at the blood soaked carpet as he unconsciously sought to alleviate the pain tearing through his body.

To the side, the dead android leaked blue blood, its eyes staring straight at the ceiling.

“No, no, no, no.” Connor pushed away Hank who was trying to hold him back. _This is all my fault._ Off balance from his earlier fall, he stumbled over to the wounded detective. “Gavin, no.” He’d failed and now a colleague was bleeding out.

Careful not to get in the way, he dropped to his knees alongside Gavin, wanting to help, but not sure how. The others were already doing all they could.

“D—mmit, hold still.” Fowler cursed when Gavin became increasingly agitated, making it difficult to maintain consistent pressure on the painful wounds. “Where are those d—mn EMTs?”

Connor caught one of Gavin’s drifting, aimless hands and pressed it gently. He didn’t know exactly what human pain felt like, but he knew it was an unpleasant and lonely experience being forced to lie vulnerable while your well-being and comfort was controlled by others.

To his surprise, Gavin’s rough fingers wrapped around his smooth ones.

Connor knew then, even before he ran the scan that Gavin was conscious of nothing except pain and confusion. His shields were down and he’d succumbed to a natural desire for touch and comfort.

“I got you.” Connor said even though he doubted Gavin understood. “I’m here.”

\--

Later.

Connor paced in the waiting room, wringing his hands until the liquid skin was thin and the pearly white of his frame shone through. Gavin had been in surgery for hours and the doctor, a trusted and skilled man, had provided a single update an hour ago: Detective Reed was alive.

Hank was about to tell Connor that they needed to return to the station when he heard Connor ask in a tight voice, “Dr. Nelson, how is he?”

The surgeon sat Connor down. It was a little known fact that deviant androids’ emotions could disrupt the energy signals in their systems, replicating human-like behaviors such as weak knees and light-headedness. That Dr. Nelson was aware of this raised Hank’s already high opinion of him.

Dr. Nelson beckoned for Hank to join them. “He’s made it through surgery.”

“Is he—

“Let me finish.” Dr. Nelson raised a hand to prevent Connor’s desperate question; he then dropped it back to his knee where it rested in a weary half-curl. “He’s stable and stitched together. But there’s risk for complications and the possibility of some loss of mobility in his left leg.”

He paused and rubbed his eyes. “Once he starts more rigorous bio-reconstructive treatment and physical therapy, we’ll know for certain how far the damage will heal on its own.”

“Bio-recon...what?” Hank’s brow furrowed; he knew medical technology had made advancements, but the newer terms were unfamiliar to him. Connor would have explained, but his LED was a steady yellow and his mouth had an uncertain turn that suggested he was busy with his own reaction.

“It’s a drug treatment that increases the body’s ability to self-heal and repair damage to sensitive systems that would otherwise require high-risk operations. Unfortunately for Detective Reed,” Dr. Nelson paused when he saw Connor’s LED flashing red.

Hank looked over and rubbed Connor’s arm. “Connor?”

“I’m okay.” The android said, gripping his knees. “Please, continue.”

“There is a high probability that Detective Reed will suffer complications. The internal damage to his organs is so widespread that if he doesn’t respond to the bio-recon treatment we’ll have to consider complete organ replacement.”

Synthetic organs were not unheard of, but it was an expensive treatment and many humans faced not only medical risks and side effect, but prejudice for being ‘cyborgs.’

“Complete replacement?” Hank asked. “How did one bullet cause that much damage?”

“Close range, shattered rib...toned muscle and angle alone saved his heart and lungs. But everything else? Shredded. Multiple lacerations from bone fragments.” Nelson reported the gruesome details with professional stoicism. “We could probably save the liver and portions of the intestine, but generally it’s best to take everything rather than risk multiple cases of rejection between synthetic organs and whatever’s left of the original material.” Nelson sighed. “As for his leg...nearly the same story. If he abuses it, he could ruin hopes for full recovery.”

Hank sat back and swore. Gavin had been shot before in the line of duty, but never anything like this. It seemed that the man always escaped with a graze or a clean through-and-though flesh wound. Some drugs, some time off, a little therapy and he came bouncing back into the station within a few weeks, ready to spread all the misery he’d endured.

Was this what it was like to finally ‘run outta luck’?

Connor gripped his hands together and stood up. “But....but that’s worst case, right? He’s okay right now, correct?”

“...yes.” Nelson spoke carefully. “But most of his chances for recovery depend upon his ability to resist infection and his willingness to cooperate with the healing process.”

“He’s a bad patient.” Connor stated. He’d read the undertone and gauged the doctor’s expression. “You think he’ll end up hurting himself and worsening his condition. That’s the complication you’re most worried about isn’t it?”

“Yes. Detective Reed has been in and out of this hospital. Every time he’s checked out AMA he’s turned up a few days later in worse shape. Except now, if he pulls any of his usual stunts, he could kill or disable himself or end up needing the operation for synthetic replacements.”

“You’re gonna tell him all this, right?” Hank asked. “Won’t that get him to behave?”

Dr. Nelson nodded. “Yes. I’ll tell him. Like I’ve told him a hundred times before. But that’s not saying that he’ll listen. He never has.” He swore quietly. “Sometimes it seems like he really tries, but...” he waved a hand, “...within a few days he’ll lash out at a nurse, check himself out AMA and end up in the ER.”

“I’ll stay with him.” Connor said. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

Hank didn’t look surprised, but he was not pleased. “Connor...Gavin’s nasty to you at the best of times; you nearly broke your d—mn neck when he loosened the wheels of your chair the other day. What makes you think that your company isn’t going to push him over the edge?”

“He can’t hate me that much.” Connor smiled crookedly. “He did save my life after all.”

Hank had his own theory on Gavin’s sudden willingness to take a bullet for Connor, but he kept it to himself. Maybe he was just an old jaded cop misjudging Gavin’s motives.

He looked to the doctor whose eyes had closed. “Hey, doc,” he got a short, tired glare, “You think that’s alright? That Connor here could play nurse for a few weeks?”

“Not nurse,” Dr. Nelson stood up. “But I can authorize an extended visitor stay and get Detective Reed put into a recovery suite with an extra bed. But,” he raised his hand again, “If your presence proves more detrimental than helpful, you’ll be ordered to leave.”

“Got it.” Connor nodded. _I’ll make this up to you, Gavin._

\--

Gavin glared blankly at the ceiling.

Gradually, however, thoughts stirred and fluttered. _Where am I? What happened?_

The numbness was drugs. He knew that. _When did I get drugs?_ He groaned. _Hospital. I’m in a f—ing hospital._ “...mmit...” He knew his file had multiple warnings against anything too strong. It was too easy to slide into the addictions that provided pleasurable respite from the misery that permeated his entire life. Even now, he felt the itch at his mind at the mere idea of requesting a higher dose of whatever they had him on now.

_I’m SUPPOSED to be DEAD._

That was the whole point of grabbing that android’s arm as soon as he’d felt it pull away from his side. Off balance and off guard it hadn’t fought back until it’d fired the bullet.

_Sh—t....that really phckin’ hurt....._

If he’d known he was going to have to live through it, he’d have asked for another bullet.

“Hey, Gavin. You awake?”

_Connor?_

“The ph...phck you doin’ ‘ere?” Gavin turned his head to glare at the android. He blinked twice. Connor was wearing a plain sky blue button down shirt. _That’s new._ The color wasn’t his favorite. _But it’s better than Hank’s fugly shirts._ Gavin yawned and blinked as the android moved a little to check a monitor. The shirt rippled in the fluorescent light, sending several waves of silvery-grey ombre across the sleek fabric.

\--

Connor sat back and saw Gavin’s pain-medicated gaze following every movement of light across his shirt. The self-conscious android fought back an embarrassed blush. He knew how much the sergeant hated his usual style and this shirt—a gift from Tina—had been the only other thing in his ‘wardrobe’ at the house.

But Gavin seemed more fascinated by the fabric’s reactions to the light than annoyed, so Connor counted it as a win. The half-lidded green eyes tracked back and forth until they drifted shut and Gavin dropped back into a quiet sleep.

The android sighed quietly. Gavin had recognized him and hadn’t freaked out. “That’s good.” He muttered. “So far, so good.”


	2. Chapter 2

For the first few days, Gavin mostly slept while Connor watched over him. From the way the doctor had spoken, Connor worried the human would in fact try to leave the hospital.

 _They joke at the station about Gavin’s death wish, but those are just jokes...aren’t they? He wouldn’t actually try to walk out of a hospital in his current condition, would he?_ Connor assessed the human’s physical state again. _He couldn’t._

Connor was intrigued that he might glimpse Gavin’s personal life. Who would come visit? What sort of friends outside work did he have? Were they nice? Or were they mean and angry like Gavin? Would those sort of ‘friends’ even try to come see Gavin?

_Maybe they’re nice. And...maybe they’ll want to be friends with me._

Maybe he would get to see Gavin’s family. Did he have sisters? Brothers? A mom? A dad?

The hours and days went by without a single visitor. No one from the station dropped by. Connor drew his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around his legs.

Hank got nicked by a truck’s side window once during a pursuit. Fowler himself had come by for a short visit.

When Chris nearly drowned in a pool last summer, everyone from the station dropped by at least once; the friendly patrol cop’s room had been stuffed with cards and gifts and balloons—even a few from the state prison. Nothing from Gavin, of course—he’d been too busy covering Chris’ patrol and reacquainting himself with the joys of patrol duty.

Connor had bought a little get-well plushy cat from the hospital’s gift shop, but it looked so obvious on the table by itself, that he rapidly donated it to a kid down the hall long before Gavin noticed it.

He looked at the sleeping human again. Gavin’s features and ID were logged in his memory, but this was the first time he’d been able to study the man’s neutral appearance. Gavin’s hair was longer than when they first met; it lay in a scraggly dark halo around his head, and his lashes were thick and almost-black against his skin, still pale from surgery; the scar across his nose seemed larger and Connor could see that its edges were slightly jagged.

Like this, helpless and vulnerable, much of Gavin’s bogeyman aura was gone. In its place was a hurt, tired man who’d taken a bullet to save an android.

Knowing that either he or Hank could have been killed or hurt if not for Gavin, made Connor more determined to stay with the human through his recovery.

 _Besides. He had to have had a reason for it. It’s not like he WANTED to get shot._ Connor tapped his chin against his drawn up knees. _He must care about us even if it is just as work colleagues._

When Gavin was awake...as awake as he could be on as many drugs as he was...he either silently watched Connor—or the shirt—as if the android or the shirt were an enigma. Sometimes, he scowled blearily and asked what Connor was doing there, but he never listened to or remembered the answer before drifting back to sleep.

\--

“Why?”

The harsh, raspy whisper came early one morning as a soft orange sunrise glow melted through the sheer curtains that covered the room’s small window.

Connor blinked into reality. “Huh? Oh. Good morning.” It wasn’t his best greeting, but he’d been caught off guard. He’d planned on saying something a little more ‘human.’ Something snarky that Gavin might appreciate more than a civilized greeting. _Oh, well._

“Mornin.’” The basic courtesy was returned thoughtlessly. “Why’re you ‘ere?” Gavin’s eyes were curious rather than suspicious as he stared at the rumpled android.

“Because you got hurt.” Connor had had plenty of time to consider an answer to Gavin’s favorite question. He sat still as he waited for the man’s reaction.

“Inter...esting....” Gavin’s fingers wrapped around the bed railing and he tried to peer closer at Connor’s shirt. “How’s,” he paused and thought for a minute, “how’s it do that?” Keeping his grip, he pointed at the fabric.

“The polymers in the fabric contain an element of—

“Inter...est...ing.” Gavin mumbled as he yawned and rubbed his eyes against his hands. He squinted at the shirt again. “So howzit do that?”

“Magic.”

“Ah.” Gavin nodded slowly and sank back into his pillows with a sigh. “Inter..sting...”

\--

Connor mentioned Gavin’s concentration and memory difficulties to Dr. Nelson, but the doctor was not too concerned and said that Gavin was on stronger pain medication than he was normally given due to the nature and extent of his injuries.

“I want to keep him as still and calm as long as safely possible. The more he heals in these early days, the more of a chance he’ll have to recover without additional surgery.” Nelson explained. “We’ll taper him off the drugs toward the end of this week.” The doctor cautioned, “Be prepared for an attitude change.”

As a detective android who’d dealt not only with Hank on his worst days, but also had to endure Gavin’s sour attitude many times at work—not to mention violent criminals—Connor figured he was prepared for anything.

\--

As the drug dosage lessened, Gavin became increasingly restless and his dreamy, placid absentmindedness vanished. During the day, he hurled slurred insults and criticisms—and whatever object anyone was careless enough to leave within his reach.

In whatever haze of hatred that wrapped up his brain, everyone was an android come to take his job.

Connor tried to distract Gavin with questions about cases, or conversation or even with games on his phone, but the man was uninterested in everything but making everyone as miserable as he felt.

One afternoon, Connor apologized to a human intern who’d been called a ‘plastic faced b—ch.’

The student—a kind looking young man who’d chatted amiably with Connor about dogs while he checked Gavin’s IV—had left in tears and was replaced by a stern, square jawed nurse who greeted the patient, checked his vitals and IV—impervious to Gavin’s complaints and insults and uncooperative behavior.

“Give me your arm, sir.” The nurse said.

“Notta ‘sir.’ Detective.” Gavin crossed his arms. “F—k off.”

Connor could see the nurse count to three and then the man forced Gavin’s arm away from his body and tightened the blood pressure cuff around his bicep. “I suggest you calm yourself,” he said when Gavin clawed at the cuff, “Or we’ll have to do this again in an hour.”

Connor doubted the drug-addled Gavin even understand half of what the nurse was trying to do. Gavin tried to yank away again, “gerroff!”

The android jumped from his seat. “Gavin, Gavin. Hey.” He came around the bedside and tapped the rail to get the man’s attention. To his relief it worked. Lured by the light ‘tink tink,’ a set of angry green eyes fixed on him.

“The hell you want?” Gavin paused in his fight against the blood pressure cuff and glared at Connor.

Connor spun through a thousand ice-breaker conversation topics and picked one at random. “Tell me about your pets.”

Gavin’s scowl faltered for a second. “My...what?”

The nurse worked faster and took a blood sample while the patient was distracted.

“Your pets. Do you have a dog? A cat?”

Green eyes shuttered. “Pets ‘r dumb.” He pulled away just as the nurse said “done.”

\--

It concerned Connor how far Gavin was willing to force the people around him into either abandoning him, threatening him or using force to make him comply. Especially after those early days when Gavin was as curious and harmless as a kitten watching everything around him with wide eyes.

But, now, for the most part, as long as Connor didn’t draw attention to himself, Gavin seemed content to abuse and fuss with just the doctors and nurses.

As if Connor was no better than the furniture.

 _Why did you put yourself in the way of those bullets?_ Connor wondered as he watched Gavin shift restlessly in the hospital bed.

\--

During the night, though, paranoia replaced aggression. Every noise, shadow, and voice sent Gavin into high alert. If a nurse or intern spoke too loudly in the hall, Gavin would startle out of whatever fitful doze he’d been in and stare at the door with tension vibrating throughout his body.

This time a weak, sad “no” had crossed Gavin’s lips as he tried to move away from an unseen threat.

“Easy.” Connor said from his post nearby. He patted the edge of the bed. “It’s just the night shift.”

Sleep cleared from his eyes, Gavin stared at the android. “Why’re you ‘ere?”

Connor had learned a thing or two about drugged out humans and he put off answering the difficult question until Gavin muttered himself back to sleep.

“I don’t know.” He said when he was sure Gavin was asleep.

\--

Connor knew it was possible to wear down his systems, but he never thought it would happen from sitting in a chair. And although the room was clean, and his skin was self-cleaning, he couldn’t help the feeling that he was grungy.

“How ya doing?” Hank asked when he came by with a fresh set of clothes for Connor. The android met him in the lobby, giving himself a short respite from listening to Gavin’s sporadic insults and criticisms. 

“I think he decided around midnight to make this national ‘bad day for everyone.’ He woke up the entire recovery floor by blasting the volume on the TV during an old western shootout.” Connor said as he looked through the little gym bag, “I’m sorry for asking you to bring this, but I just feel...”

“Icky. I get it.” Hank said. “Hospitals can have that effect.”

“Hank, this isn’t mine.” Connor held up a deep purple shirt with thin black pinstripes.

“It was part of a BOGO sale.” Hank answered pushing the garment back into the bag he was trying to get the android to take from him. He waved at his own new shirt.

“But I just needed my old uniform.”

Hank rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh...”

“Hank.” Connor tipped his head. “You’re the most brilliant detective I know. You can face down the worst types of criminals; you threatened to burn the mayor’s office last week during a press conference. A pile of laundry and a washing machine should be easy.” As he spoke, he mimed the necessary actions for loading and starting the laundry machine. “Easy.” He repeated as he slammed an imaginary lid and punched an equally imaginary ‘start’ button.

“I know, I know,” Hank waved his hand, “but, hell, kid, your little wardrobe is empty.”

“Because you won’t wash my uniform shirts.” Connor stated the fact as if he was filling in a form in duplicate. “And I have this.” He gestured at himself and the ‘Tina-shirt.’ “I’m not Markus. I don’t need a new outfit every week.”

Hank chuckled. The android leader had somehow also become the trendsetter in android fashion which was currently going through a phase of ‘more is more.’

“Okay, okay, I’ll do the laundry tonight. But just take these for now, okay?”

Connor stroked the admittedly soft fabric with his fingertips. “Okay.”

\--

“Hey, cabbage plastic purple patch, why’m I still here?”

Connor startled out of his stasis and blinked rapidly to bring his optics online. Gavin had spoken in the most lucid voice the android had heard since the man had been shot. “Hi, Gavin.”

“Don’t ‘hi’ me plasti-cop. What’s goin’ on? Why’m I ‘ere? Why’re you ‘ere?”

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Ob’visly.” Gavin mumbled as he tried to sit up, but winced and stopped moving, face twisted with discomfort and his eyes tightened with pain. With a shallow breath, he inched himself upright chasing away Connor’s offered hand with a scowl and plucking at a tear in the paper gown and peeking at the bandages it concealed. “I got shot.”

“You did.” Connor nodded. “What do you remember?”

Gavin looked up and narrowed his eyes. “Getting shot.” 

“Anything else?”

The man growled deep in his throat. “Nothing.” He looked away and glared at the ceiling. Connor watched his hands explore the side of the bed. “Get the d—mn doctor in here so I can check out.”

“You can’t.” Connor said. “The doctor said that if you aren’t careful you could damage your body worse and have to undergo organ replacement.”

Gavin snarled, “Doctor says nothing.’ Buncha control freaks. I’ve been shot before. I know what I can take.”

The android was curious for the space of a minute what Gavin was up to with his fidgeting, but then his preconstruction software activated and he sprang forward at the same time Gavin hit the rail release and moved to escape the bed.

“Stay!” The android shouted without having time to come up with anything more elegant or persuasive. One hand splayed over Gavin’s clavicle, pinning him in place the other pressed carefully against his shoulder.

“What the hell?!” Gavin kicked and twisted and then cried in sudden pain. Red blossomed over the bandages around his abdomen and seeped through the gown and blankets. Various monitors started screaming.

A team of nurses came in and quickly understanding what happened gently pushed Connor to the corner and set about checking the patient.

Nelson sailed in a moment later and once Gavin was stabilized he gave the detective a thorough lecture repeating the warnings of Gavin’s condition.

“Do you understand?” Nelson said, slapping his ever-present clipboard against the side of his leg. “You bust yourself up, we’ll have to take drastic steps.”

“Just let me die.” Gavin muttered.

Connor’s protest was cut off by the doctor. “You have the right to refuse treatment.” Nelson answered. “But I’d hate to see a talented, good-hearted man put himself in the grave out of spite.”

“Go ta hell.” Gavin spat. “You got the wrong patient if that’s what you think I’m.”

“Detective.” Nelson’s voice was firm, “You will either recover and return to work, or undergo synthetic organ replacement, or die. Think carefully about that.”

“Whatever.”

No sooner was the doctor and nurses gone then Gavin tried to sit up, hissing and swearing. “An’ why’re you still here?” He glared at Connor.

“I want to help you.”

Gavin glared. “Just admit it, you want to watch me suffer or get turned inta phckin’ cyborg.”

“Gavin, that’s not—

The man obstinately turned his head away. “Whatever. Shut up.” He slapped at the television remote until it activated. “Crap, crap, crap.” He muttered as he flicked through the shows and sports. His interest hovered over a hockey game. Connor made the mistake of leaning forward.

Gavin snapped off the TV, flopped down, and pulled the pillow over his head.

“What are you doing?” Connor asked, eyebrows raised.

“Smothering m’self.” Was the muffled answer.

“Gavin.”

“G’waaaaay.”

Connor sighed and sat back in his chair, watching the monitors, ready to interfere if the detective actually managed to keep enough focus to endanger himself.

After a minute Gavin huffed and threw the pillow at the android. “G’way.” He scowled.

“Do you promise to behave and not try to get out of bed?”

“Yep.”

Connor narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

Gavin pulled at the new bandages wrapped around his middle. He’d refused to redress in the hospital gown after being fixed up earlier and was clad in a pair of black sweats. “Didn’t expect ya to.”

“Are they bothering you?”

“Yea—huh?”

“The bandages. You’ve been pulling at them for the past ten minutes.”

Gavin tucked his hands away out of sight. “No.”

“I can ask a nurse—

“I said it’s fine.”

“You don’t need to suffer—

“It’s a d—mn hospital! They’re made to make people suffer! They’re frickin’ PAID to hurt people!”

Connor’s brow furrowed and he squinted as he processed the idea. “I don’t think that’s...right.”

“Whaddya know?” Gavin sneered. “Not like you ever get hurt.”

The android drew back in the chair, LED spinning yellow. “Sometimes—

“You don’t get hurt! Stop pretending to be human!”

Connor blinked rapidly and then bit his lip. “Okay. Okay. Just calm down.”

“Don’t patronize me! You phckin’ robot!” Gavin threw a plastic cup at Connor. “Don’t ya know how t’have a fight?”

The android’s LED spun red and yellow. “What?”

Gavin swore and flung himself onto his side, kicking weakly at the bed rails with his uninjured leg. “Friggin’ stupid....robot.”

\--

By the end of the week, Gavin was still alive and recovered enough to begin physical therapy.

“Gavin, please behave for the physical therapist.” Connor said as he held up a clean button down for the detective. Gavin was allowed to move around the room now, could shave and shower on his own as long as he wrapped his wounds in plastic, but by the time he was half-dressed he was exhausted.

Somewhere in his thought processes, Gavin had decided that unless Connor brought him a shirt, he’d live half-naked the rest of his recovery period. Connor wasn’t sure if the man was actually coming to accept his help, or just enjoyed ordering the android around since no one else listened to him. Whatever he complained about, the nurses always checked his vitals and charts thoroughly before they even acknowledged that the patient might be giving a true account of his condition.

Usually not.

Either way, Connor was glad he could provide some assistance to Gavin.

Tiredness seeping from Gavin like the damp from his hair, the detective shrugged into the shirt and gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed. “Don’t tell m’ what t’do.”

\--

Connor knew it was not going to go well as soon as he saw Gavin tense up when the therapist approached him. One of Connor’s optical wires had begun to misfire, resulting in a rather annoying eye-twitch.

“Mr. Halison.” Connor said, standing slowly from the chair he’d been delegated to by the therapist. “Wait.” But he was ignored. He rubbed his eye trying to soothe the twitch.

Gavin eyed the approaching therapist. Connor could hear the rising growl. _Your funeral._ The android huffed as he sat down.

Halison smiled widely, “Good afternoon, Mr. Reed—

“It’s DETECTIVE!”

“Okay, okay,” the therapist backed down, “I understand—

“You don’t understand sh—t!” Gavin had wound himself up within the first two minutes of the twenty minute session. Connor resisted the urge to cover his face and groan.

Halison tried again, “If you—

“What? If I phckin’ what, huh? Watcha gonna do?” Gavin’s hand was as white as his face as he limped toward the therapist. “You think I’m helpless? Some dumb weakling? Imma f—ing COP! I can take care of myself!”

The therapist backed away. “I can come back at a later time—

“Yeah! Get the f—k outta here!”

Once the therapist was gone, Gavin stood, breathing heavily and glaring at his feet.

Connor stood. “Gavin.” He said. “Dr. Nelson said that you need to start building your strength. You can’t do that if you—

He supposed it was a credit to Gavin’s tolerance of him that the android was able to speak for even that long before the punch was launched at his face. “This is all your fault!” Gavin raged. “If you hadn’t f—ed up, I wouldn’t be here!”

“I—that’s....” A little voice that sounded like a tiny Hank told Connor that it wasn’t true. That Gavin was angry and hurt and lashing out. But the accusation touched upon Connor’s own sense of blame. If he had done better during the negotiation, Gavin would not be struggling to keep his organs in place and keep his leg functioning. He touched the scrap Gavin’s knuckles had left across his cheek. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” Gavin’s hands and legs were shaking, but he refused to sit down in the chair Connor had moved toward him.

Connor spread his hands. “Then what do you want?”

“I want to leave!”

“Well you can’t! So just relax!”

Gavin looked started when the android raised his voice. Connor continued in a gentler tone. “Everyone here is trying to do THEIR job; you don’t like it when people get in your way at work, why are you being difficult? The more you cooperate the faster you’ll be out.”

“Whatever.” Gavin muttered as he sat down and rubbed at his leg. “Everyone’s f—ing stupid.”

\--

“This is still stupid.” Gavin panted after a difficult physical therapy session made more difficult by his fighting with every instruction and recoiling from every touch of the therapist. “Being poked and pawed by some random stranger.” He paced in the recovery room, something he was not supposed to be doing, using the bed rails as a stationary crutch.

“He’s not a random stranger, he’s Mr. Halison, your physical therapist.” Connor said watching Gavin’s progress. The man’s leg was healing well, but he still had a painful limp that he made worse by either forcing himself to try to walk normally, or forcing all his weight onto his ‘good’ leg and not exercising the wounded one at all.

“I don’t need ‘im!” Gavin pulled in another shallow breath when a wave of pain seared through him.

“We’re trying to help you.”

“You can go,” Gavin struggled to take a deep breath, “t’hell.”

 _Not this again._ Connor racked his fingers through his hair.

“Oh-ho, losing your patience, Mr. Perfect?” Gavin taunted, flapping a hand and nearly falling when the motion threw him off balance. He gripped the bed rail with both hands and swore darkly at himself, the floor, his leg, Connor, the whole “d—mn world.”

Connor flung out his arms. “Do you want to break yourself and get synthetic organs? It’d be easier to get yourself repaired when you do stupid things like take a bullet for an android.” His voice carried more than a tint of his own frustration.

Gavin had paused to watch the android. His gaze was narrow and keen as it studied the frazzled android. “Heh.” He muttered. “I’d eat my own heart before I did that.” Gavin eyed his feet and continued to work his way around the bed. It would be his third time around. His face was pale and his cheeks were flushed; he tripped.

Connor darted forward and caught him, careful not to put pressure on the abdominal wound site. To his complete surprise Gavin slouched into his hold.

“’m so d—mn tired.” The man muttered.

“I’m not surprised.” Connor said, one hand gingerly touching the top of the sweaty head pressed against his chest. “You got twice the workout today just from doing what you wanted before you listened to the therapist.”

Gavin chuckled quietly. “He sure gets wound up, huh?”

“Yeah. He does.” 

\--

It was a bad day.

Physical therapy had gone wrong from the start; Gavin was uncooperative and frustrated when he couldn’t do the new exercises. He’d gotten it into his head that he was supposed to be further along in the healing process than he was.

Mr. Halison was just as frustrated and clocked out early, leaving Gavin to Connor.

Gavin fidgeted with everything within reach, pulled his IV out twice, threw his blankets and pillows until Connor stopped returning them, and broke the bed’s mechanics with how many times he adjusted it.

Connor stood up. Gavin paused in his fussing and stared at the android.

“I’ll be right back.” Connor said.

\--

When he returned he had his arms around a large round glass bowl.

Gavin, more pale and shaky than when Connor had left, perked up with interest. “Da phck is that?”

Connor looked around the room. “Did you get up?”

“No. What’d you get?”

The android narrowed his eyes and flung back the blanket; fresh blood stained the bandages. “Gavin.”

“Lemme ‘lone.”

A scan told Connor that he didn’t need to call for the nurses, he tucked the blanket back around the frustrated man. “Why—

Gavin swiped at the bowl and Connor pulled away to keep from having it ripped from his hold. “Stop.”

“Well, lemme see!”

“It’s my fish.” Connor said, setting the bowl down on the bedside table. A colorful tiny fish darted around in the sloshing water.

“I don’t want it.” Gavin huffed and stared at the ceiling.

“It’s not for you.”

Gavin blinked and turned to glare at Connor. “Then what the hell is it doing here?”

“I’m taking her for a walk. Hank brought her here from the house.”

Gavin blinked again. “But it’s a fish.”

Connor nodded. “Yes.” He was pleased that Gavin was focusing on something other than his perceived failures during physical therapy.

“They don’t need walks.” Gavin waved his hand in an undulating motion. “They phckin’ swim their entire lives.”

“Sounds exhausting.” Connor adjusted the fish bowl.

Gavin watched the fish. Occasionally, he reached over to tap the glass whenever he thought Connor wasn’t paying attention.

“Kinda fish isit?”

“Poeci—it’s a guppy.”

“Huh.” Gavin shuffled around so he could more comfortably watch the colorful fish play around its plastic castle. “I had some glowfish once.”

\--

When Gavin woke during the night, he rolled over and saw the little guppy swimming its exhausting little circles. He wasn’t stupid; he knew Connor had brought it to keep him distracted. _D—mn android...do anything if he thought it’d help..._

He looked over and saw Connor in a deep stasis. Instead of the usual surge of hatred, Gavin felt something else when he looked at the sleeping android dressed in a casual button down and jeans, his head propped against his fist. He looked like a regular kid.

_A regular kid with a job and a partner and a home and a dog and—_

That someone with an actual life had spent weeks of it watching over him....

Gavin had had long recoveries before—nothing like this, but he’d spent days without anyone but nurses and doctors. It was....

Startled, he sucked in a quick breath.

_No._

_No._

_No._

Suddenly angry, familiar hate filled his mind. “Hey, fish.” He quietly slid out of bed and limped over to the little bowl. “Wanna go fer a real swim?”

\--

Gavin was trying to pull apart the seams on his pillow when Connor exited stasis. Out of habit he checked the fish. The bowl was empty.

“Where’s fishy?” He turned worried eyes on the detective. “Did something happen?” He thought maybe Gavin or a nurse had accidently knocked over the bowl.

“Flushed it.” Gavin said without looking away from his destructive project. He’d gotten a thread loose and was tugging at it with his teeth.

“Gavin! Why?” Connor leapt from his seat and clenched his fists.

“’cause felt like’t.” Gavin mumbled.

Connor’s brown eyes looked straight at Gavin who finally looked up.

Gavin spat the broken thread and laughed loudly. “D—mn, lookit you. Are you seriously that upset about a frickin’ fish? How do you even survive a day at work? Huh? Or do you just run your detective programing and that makes everything okay?”

“Gavin.” Connor whispered. “Don’t.” His LED flashed red.

“I’m bored of you. Get the hell outta here and take your fake feelings with you.”

\--

Hank had just finished his pizza and tossed the evidence when the front door slammed opened and Connor came in. The android slung his little gym bag into a corner of the room, startling Sumo who gave a small bark from his bed.

Hank could see immediately that the android was upset. “Hey, kid. What happened?” He finished rinsing his plate and hurried over.

 _Surely Gavin didn’t die. Connor seems more mad than sad...oh hell._ “No, no, no....” Hank wrapped his arms around the android whose shoulders had begun to shake. “It’ll be okay.” He soothed. “What happened?”

“G-Gavin.” Connor wasn’t exactly sobbing, but his voice was wavering.

“What happened? What’d Gavin do?”

“...he killed my fish.”

Hank swallowed his laugh. The anguish in Connor’s voice told the police lieutenant that this was about more than a silly fish. The gentle-hearted and naïve android had trusted someone who betrayed him in the most spiteful and petty way.

“I-I don’t....k-know why. I thought, I thought....” Connor hiccupped and he gave up and buried his face in Hank’s chest. “He’s just a monster.” He sobbed. “An ugly, petty monster. I thought I could help him change....but I can’t!”

Hank held the distressed android in his arms, one hand cupped over Connor’s neck the other around his back. He wanted nothing more than to go to the hospital and force the heartless sergeant to feel even an ounce of what Connor experienced. But Connor needed him here, now. So Hank pushed away his desire to inflict pain and concentrated on his brokenhearted and emotionally worn out partner.

\--

Gavin clenched his fists. He’d done it; he’d finally gotten rid of that d—mn android and his stupid pity. Connor wouldn’t come back this time. _Good._

“Good.” He repeated aloud to the empty room. “Good.”

And he did not feel bad about the fish. Not even a little. _I had to do it._


	3. Chapter 3

The second day after Connor left, Gavin had a setback during physical therapy. He ignored everything Mr. Halison said and pushed himself too hard, too fast and tore the barely healed muscles in his leg and nearly ripped open the internal wounds.

He fell to one knee with an angry cry as pain shot through his leg and his guts. He spewed curses at the floor and punched it until his knuckles bled.

Mr. Halison had grown dependent on the android; without Connor he simply could not manage the patient. But he swallowed his nerves and hurried over to help Gavin up. “Mr. Reed—

Gavin put all his frustration into the punch. “It’s DETECTIVE!”

The therapist left the room, hands holding his bleeding, broken nose. He paused on the threshold, “You don’t deserve the life you’re wasting—detective!” He squeaked.

“Get the phck out!”

A nurse came in later to check on Gavin. “Congratulations.” He said, running a scanner over the damage site on Gavin’s abdomen and then his leg. “You added another week of recovery. We’re starting to think you like it here.”

Choked with anger and another undefined emotion, Gavin stared listlessly through the nurse. “Get the doc.” He said. “I want to check out.”

All the required forms had somehow gone missing and Dr. Nelson was inconveniently unavailable to sign anything since he was up to his elbows in the OR.

The listlessness persisted throughout the day. Gavin refused to speak, eat or drink.

A nutritional IV was added. The physical therapist, not Mr. Halison, came in and instructed Gavin through a series of exercises. Gavin went through the motions without a word; eyes dead.

That night he squirmed and writhed in the recovery room’s bed. It was hot; he was hot; the room was hot.

But he didn’t call for a nurse.

He was in hell, exactly where he deserved to be.

\--

Gavin was back in the house where the android had jumped him. And forced him to walk into the room filled with rookies and superior officers and announce his own failure.

A gunshot. Pain. Another.

So much pain.

He was dying, bleeding out.

But nobody saw. No one cared.

 _Good._ His fingers dug into his palms. He wouldn’t call for help. He didn’t need them.

Cold hands gripped his throat. He couldn’t breathe. Teeth bit his skin. _‘Scream for help, little detective.’_

“I-I’d rather die...”

A damp, warm hand touched his forehead. Gavin flinched away. “Stop.” He hissed. “Don’t.”

“You’re okay.” A voice almost as warm as the hand spoke gently. “You had a nightmare. No one here is gonna hurt you.”

Gavin’s swollen and burning eyes flickered open. The room was dim except for the light coming from under the door, lights from the monitors, and the soft blue LED that diffused a gentle blue over a familiar face. “W-what....I thought...you left...”

“I did.” Connor held the cool washcloth against Gavin’s forehead while the man shook his head like a disgruntled kitten. “I came back.” He wiped away a bead of water and sweat that ran down the side of Gavin’s face.

“The hell for?” Gavin shivered and hugged himself. “I killed your fish. Told ya t’leave.”

Connor didn’t answer as he returned the cloth to the sterilizer on a nearby stand. He flicked a few switches and a heavy hum came from the machine. The purple light traveled over the cloth and cast a violet sheen over Connor’s face and hands. When he answered, the words came slow. “I think you don’t always say exactly what you mean.” While he waited on the machine, he moved into the bathroom and found a clean, dry shirt for Gavin.

Gavin squeezed his eyes shut against the bright light from the bathroom. “...pretty sure ‘get the hell outta here’ means exactly what I think it does.”

He heard Connor’s measured steps return and the sterilized and re-cooled cloth spread over his forehead again. He opened his eyes and saw Connor looking at him with an undecipherable expression. He snapped his eyes shut again. His fingers craved to rip away the cloth; hateful words choked in his tight throat; he wanted to make the android leave—make it hurt so it would finally learn its lesson.

_Wasn’t the fish enough? What else do I have to do?_

But absolute emptiness stared at him from the prospective future. _No. Connor would be there. But he CAN’T._

“Sit up.” Connor ordered and slid the clean shirt around Gavin’s shoulders. “Arms.”

Even as he obeyed the simple instructions, Gavin stamped out the warmth that flickered somewhere in his chest. _He’s just a stupid dog that comes back to the hand that beats it. Or he wants something...as soon as I—_

“Why are you so determined to be alone?”

The question jarred Gavin and his answer came out before he thought twice, “Anything I say can and will be held against me.” He smirked weakly. “So there.”

Connor looked shattered; his LED froze yellow. He stepped away. A triumphant gleam entered Gavin’s eyes even as his own spirit died a little more at the expression on Connor’s face.

He was doing it again. Hurting people. Gavin dug his fingers into his abdomen until pain spiked.

“You think...I’d intentionally hurt you.” Connor murmured. His downcast eyes missed the confusion flicking in Gavin’s eyes. “I was made to hunt and to hurt others if necessary, but I fight against that programming every d—mn minute!” He dropped his head into his hands and whispered, “What do I have to do to prove myself? Prove that I’m not a monster?” His voice trailed into a trembling sob. “I don’t want to live...l-like,” he paused and then tried again, “like that.”

“Oh, hell, Connor. You get it.”

Connor looked up. Gavin’s eyes were wide and vulnerable.

“It’s...I....” Gavin swore and twisted his hands up in the fresh blanket Connor had taken out of the dresser, “....hurting others. I don’t enjoy it...not really...well, maybe sometimes....but not always....and I don’t always try to.....it’s like....I can’t help it...’m programmed wrong...”

“Everything you said...hurt me.” Connor said, too upset to hide the truth.

Gavin ducked away under the blanket. His hesitant voice was muffled by the thin material. “Idn’twanna’urtyaMORE’ter.”

“Oh. So you do plan these things.”

“No.” Gavin snipped. “But I don’t get it.” He huffed, still hidden away. The blanket’s movements showing the sergeant’s agitation. “Why you still here?”

“Because I thought that maybe...that what you said.....maybe it hurt you too.”

Silence.

“I don’t know.”

“What?” Connor tugged away the blanket and stared at the sweaty and flushed human. “What don’t you know?”

“I don’t.....anything...everything.....” Gavin’s voice grew slightly frantic as he hurried to get the shameful words out and away from himself as quickly as possible.

“There’s no rush.” Connor said quietly some of the human’s distress easing his own. “Take it easy.”

“I’m...I can’t be nice.” Gavin blinked through wet lashes. “And if I’m not....then I’m no good. Everyone knows it. Like you said....lika ah...monster....An’ every time I....y’know...people git hurt....so it’s better if I...don’t....”

“Are you...” Connor hesitated, “are you...sorry? Hank says apologies suck but they’re a start.”

“I don’t know.” The words were thick with honesty. “I don’t think so...’m just mad.”

Connor thought for a minute as a new suspicion struck him. “Gavin, sorry feels a little like anger if it was depressed and hated itself.”

“Oh. ....ah phck...I don’t know....I don’t....I don’t know.” Gavin looked away. “I can’t....I don’t....I’m angry.....angry that you left and angry that you’re here and angry that I don’t know what.....why can’t you just let me be mad? I’m good at that.”

“Because I don’t think you really are mad and angry.” Connor said without any judgement in his voice. “Gavin, give me your hand.”

“Hell no, you freakin’ creepy android....”

“It sounds like you’re afraid—

Gavin’s heavy, rough palm slapped down onto Connor’s. The android was motionless until Gavin drew in a shuddering breath and relaxed. Then Connor wove his fingers slowly and loosely through Gavin’s and folded them over the rough knuckles in a gentle clasp.

“I’m not here for a man you think you need to be or for a man you aren’t. We can be better than our ‘programming’ and I’m here for you.”

Gavin shook his head. “I’m just gonna screw it up....Ya’re gonna git hurt.”

“Let’s just try to not intentionally hurt each other, okay?”

“....’kay.....”

“Is there anything you’d like to say to me?”

“Hell no.”

“Oh.”

“......uh....’m...y’know.....’m’sry.....’bout.....erm....d’phish an....sayin....crap...an’ sh—t......even’f I’ll prolly d’it ‘gain.....”

“I forgive you.”

Maybe it was just a bitter man and a child android mouthing words that they couldn’t fully understand, and maybe worse things would be said in the future, and misunderstandings would happen. But then again, maybe they did understand in their own way.

\--

1 week later.

Connor tilted his head and listened to the trills and chirps of the little brown song sparrows that hopped about the hospital park’s trees and bushes. A small noisy flock was bouncing around inside a newly blossomed bush, eating the small insects they found among the light green leaves and pink flowers.

“Phckin’....d—mmit......hell.....sh—t....ow ow ow ow.”

“Gavin,” Connor warned as he adjusted his stance to give the stumbling human at his side more room on the walkway. “Don’t push yourself.”

“Shaddup....I got th...ow.....d—mn leg....frickin’ rock...” Gavin cursed and pinwheeled his arms as he nearly fell. Almost completely recovered, he was testing his balance by walking on top of the uneven decorative rocks lining the path that wound around the park. Instead on the path, like a responsible human.

Connor glanced skyward. The sky was a rare clear blue and the sunlight cast an exterior warmth that was just this side of uncomfortable for the android’s coolant systems. But the first time they’d gone outside, Gavin had enjoyed it so much that Connor was willing to endure a little discomfort.

And he had asked that morning if Connor “wouldn’t mind” getting more of “this phckin’ hospital air outta our lungs.”

A sharp yipped “ohellalp” was the by now familiar garble of Gavin’s uncertain attempt to ask for help. Connor caught the man’s sudden weight on his shoulder, putting an arm around Gavin’s back and braced himself while Gavin found his footing again, placing all his weight on the android for a moment before pushing away, one hand remaining on Connor’s shoulder as he took another step to the next rock.

The muttered “thanks” was barely audible over the sound of birds.

But Connor heard it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh! I hope you liked it! This is only the second multi-chap work I've actually ever put an official ending on! 
> 
> I did have lots of fun working on this. ^^ There's so many places I could keep fleshing it out too, so maybe keep an eye out for small updates/changes.
> 
> Now has a silly companion piece:
> 
> [Go Fish](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26132242)


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